Cabin Fever
by Plesiosaur
Summary: Bubbline one shot. Bonnibel is sick and Marceline was always just waiting to be told what to do.


**Ta-dah! Surprise one shot. Sooo even though this has been done to death I just wanted to take a stab at something set between the end of Season 6 and the beginning of Season 7. Also I wrote this before the Stakes spoilers were released and I was making a vague guess at Marceline's mom's ethnicity. Anyway, enjoy!**

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The windows were dark when she arrived and that was her first clue that something wasn't right. As though anything was right anymore, anyway. Everything was upside down. Overnight the whole world was different yet again and she didn't like it one bit. Marceline frowned and went to push the door of the cabin open.

Her hand collided painfully with an invisible barrier half an inch from the handle and she cursed. Dammit, she hadn't been invited in yet.

"Suppose a text message doesn't count then?" she asked the door sourly. It didn't deign to reply and she glared at it uselessly.

There were curtains hung across the ramshackle windows and she couldn't see much of anything through the cracks; it looked like nobody was home. Weird. Casting around for something that could actually touch the door she grabbed a stick and used that to knock, feeling like an absolute moron the whole time.

"Hey, you home Bon? Just your friendly neighbourhood vampire, who apparently has nothing better to do than stand on your crappy porch and tap your door with a stick. Hey! Open up, this is the lamest prank in a thousand years!"

Just as she was on the point of giving up and going home the door slowly opened and creaked inwards to reveal yet more blackness. After a second a face peered around the edge, blinking blearily at her.

"S'up?"

It took Marceline a moment to even recognise Bonnibel. Her usually neat hair was twisted crazily all over her head and she had dark circles under her eyes. Generally she looked like she'd not slept in a month and possibly had run a marathon in a hail storm. After a moment of standing downwind the vampire's sharp nose picked up a not entirely pleasant smell wafting from the cabin.

"You're sick." Marceline accused, coming forward but unable to cross the threshold. "Why would you ask me to come over if you're sick? I'm not repainting your damn house while you vomit all over the place!"

"Sent that message two days ago." Bonnie mumbled, swaying a little. She gripped the door harder to keep her balance.

"Sorry, didn't check my phone. You need to invite me in though! I can't help if you're gonna make me stand on the porch all night."

"Sure. C'mon in."

The barrier instantly vanished and Marceline pitched forward, falling for a split second before gravity released its grip on her and she hovered forwards into the run down cabin. She grabbed Bonnie's arm to steady her and the other woman hissed in shock when cold hands touched her fevered flesh.

"Glob, you're burning up! I'm a cruddy judge of temperature but I'm fairly certain you're about two degrees off melting completely. Come on, you're having a cold bath."

Perhaps the pink woman would have argued but she was swept up and carried to the bathroom before she managed to open her mouth and anyway she _was_ too warm, a cold bath might be nice. She didn't realise until Marceline started tugging her shirt over her head that she wasn't going to be given any privacy to bathe.

"Get out, Marcy. I can wash myself." Bonnie sighed in frustration. Her arms were shaky and weak though, she wondered if she actually could manage alone.

"Don't be an idiot, you'll faint and drown and then I won't have anyone to annoy at video club anymore. Besides it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Bonnie frowned at that but didn't argue. She let herself be undressed and carefully lowered into the cool water, shivering uncontrollably the whole time.

"K. But no peeking, right?" she mumbled, resting her head tiredly on her knees. Grod, she was so tired. She opened one eye a crack when the vampire snorted sarcastically. How did she manage to make a snort sarcastic? Bonnie smiled despite herself, that was one of those bizarre talents Marceline had; she was a master of nonverbal sarcasm.

"Yeah, because pouring cold water over your sweaty diseased body is highly erotic, especially when you smell like you've started to ferment. That's the dream right there, that's what teenage girls have dirty dreams about."

"Feels pretty good from where I'm sitting." Bonnie wasn't sure if she answered aloud or in her head, her eyes had slipped closed again while the cold water worked on her. For a few minutes everything was distant and both too cool and too hot at the same time. She jumped in shock when something cold and soapy touched her shoulder.

"Nooo," she said faintly, "I can wash myself." She tried to grab her sponge to prove it but missed and ended up punching the taps. "Ow." she said weakly.

"Sure you can, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"...Sorry, Bon."

Marceline just continued lathering her back, carefully avoiding putting her hands anywhere that could be considered more intimate. A tense silence settled around them. After a moment she sniffed and frowned.

"When did you last eat?"

"Dunno. What day is it?" Bonnie replied distantly as she stared down through the water at her feet. She was starting to feel more clear headed and was growing more and more embarrassed at being naked and sick in front of her ex, no matter how good their friendship was these days.

"Please give me the soap and turn around, Marcy." Bonnie asked quietly, too embarrassed to meet the other woman's eyes. Marceline handed over the soap without another word and turned around obediently. Bonnibel shakily finished washing herself and made to get out of the bath but her knees were still weak and she stumbled over the edge. Before she could hit the floor strong cold arms were around her.

"Hey, take it easy. You need to eat something and rest."

Bonnie had run out of fight, she hadn't had a lot to start with. She didn't resist as Marcy carried her still naked and shivering back through the tiny cabin to the bed. She was deposited gently on the lumpy mattress and ordered to find something light to wear. Then the vampire was gone, clattering around her cramped kitchen trying to find something edible for her. Still quite dazed and bewildered, Bonnie pulled on her nightdress and shivered again; she was still far too hot and now that she was out of the cool water she could feel her temperature rising again.

"All you had in your fridge was a batch of cookie dough and some rock hard cupcakes. Good thing I brought dinner, I figured you might be struggling a little." Marceline said as she floated silently back through to the bedroom. She stopped in the doorway, brow furrowed. "Bonnie, you're sweating again. And you're still burning up! Right, do not go reading too much into this, ok? But desperate measures, you're not allowed to get sick and die on me. Don't argue."

Bonnie was beyond confused; Marceline was tugging her own shirt off and throwing it into the corner. Bonnie averted her eyes; she had no idea what was going on until Marcy slipped into the bed next to her, just in her underwear.

"I double as an icepack, you butt. Perks of being dead and all that. So just come over here and let me hug and feed you."

Bonnibel was torn; she was uncomfortably warm and uncomfortably uncomfortable with the whole situation. But what choice did she have? She didn't want to melt and she absolutely didn't want Marceline to call a doctor. She wished she hadn't sent Peppermint Butler home already but the thought of him washing her and helping her undress was too embarrassing anyway, maybe it was better it'd been her ex. Bonnibel dithered, unsure what to do.

"If you don't get your butt over here right now I'm calling Doctor Princess." Marceline threatened. Right, that was it. Decision made. Bonnie scooted over and let her icy cold friend press up against her fevered back. The shock of the cold skin very quickly melted away to cool relief and the thumping ache in her head began to ease. Marcy wrapped one arm around her shoulders and rummaged around in the backpack she'd brought with her other hand, finally producing a bag of apples and a stack of sandwiches wrapped in brown waxed paper.

They ate in silence, Marcy sucking the colour out of the apples and Bonnie taking small bites out what turned out to be a very acceptable cheese salad sandwich. For a while she wondered how Marceline had known that cheese salad was her favourite before she remembered that vampires had amazing memories and they'd had a fairly in depth conversation about sandwiches years before. She must be sick, she reflected, to forget about that

When Bonnibel had eaten what she could and Marceline had put the now grey apples back into her bag they stretched out awkwardly, the vampire spooning her and keeping her cold skin pressed against the thin material of Bonnie's nightdress. Silence filled the room again as she searched her usually agile mind for another topic of conversation.

"I read somewhere," Bonnie mumbled after a while, "that the world used to be divided up into massive kingdoms with completely different identities, before the Mushroom War. Do you know anything about those kingdoms?"

"Yeah, some. What do you want to know?" Marceline replied quietly. Bonnie thought for a moment, struggling to make her mind flow properly against the haze of fever fogging her brain.

"They were all humans, right? And so was your mother? Which kingdom was she from?"

Bonnie felt Marceline's arm tense around her for a moment but the vampire replied in a soft, steady voice anyway.

"She was American, but her mother had come here from Japan. That was an island a long way across the ocean, a kingdom with a completely different culture. I tried to fly out to see if it's still there but you have no idea how big that ocean is, Bon. I flew for days and never saw land. In the end I was too scared of getting lost and going feral out there so I turned around and came home. But Mom, she used to tell me about Japan. She said it was the land of myths and monsters. She told me stories, like this one about a woman whose cat was really a demon and ate her face, then the cat lived in the woman's body and pretended to be her and ate her husband too. Wasn't really appropriate for a little kid, actually. Anyway, the Japanese side is where my hair comes from. Mom had hair like mine, and my grandmother too. Most Japanese people had really straight black hair that would grow really long pretty fast if they didn't keep it cut short. I liked that, that's why I kept it so long. Dunno if there's anyone left alive in Ooo who'd get the reference though. Now Finn, he's got a European look to him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, very Scandinavian. He's what they used to call Caucasian. There were so many different races of human, Bon. And most of them are gone now."

"Were any of them pink?" Bonnie mumbled into her pillow.

"No, only Finn's type if they stayed out in really bright sun too long, and that was super painful for them. I mean, not like vampire UV pain, but it still hurt to get sunburnt."

"D'you miss how it used to be?"

Marceline considered it for a while.

"No," she replied slowly, "not exactly. I'm sad all those people died but they were humans and they don't live so long anyway. Not like you and me. And if the Mushroom War hadn't happened my life would have worked out really differently. My dad had plans for me."

"Mm. The big war thingy. You told me."

"Armageddon. Yeah, Dad wanted me to rule the humans and start the war that would end the whole world. Turns out they didn't need my help with that one though. I'm happier this way; if I was busy being the Lord of Evil up here I'd have no time to play music and hang out with you. Besides I suck at giving orders." Marceline finished thoughtfully.

"I remember."

And why had Bonnie let those particular traitorous words slip past her control and tumble out of her mouth? She hadn't meant to reference their previous relationship, hadn't meant to remind Marceline that Bonnie still remembered she was deeply submissive and preferred to be told what to do especially in bed. Oh Grod, she'd ruined it.

"That was a long time ago. You never know, I might have changed."

Marcy's words were soft but her entire body had tensed up and everything was awkward and weird again. Bonnie was uncomfortably aware that the last time they'd laid together like this was under very different circumstances.

"Have you?" Bonnie could have just changed the subject but she didn't, because she'd already made it weird and the curiosity burned stronger in her than the fever. The other woman was quiet for a while before she replied.

"No. Still unsure where I stand, still waiting to be told what you want me to do."

Thinking was difficult and her brain still felt like it was full of damp cotton, so in the end Bonnie just gave up on thinking entirely and followed her instincts. In the morning they could talk, when she was feeling better and could think clearly. But she was sick, too hot, the only thing that helped was cold flesh pressed against her. She rolled over so they were face to face and told Marceline exactly what to do.


End file.
